Lis came in wearing a blue dress. So I went and hid behind the wardrobe and put on my yellow suit.I asked her if I might place one hand on her neck when I spoke to her and the other on her hair. And she said, 'Yes.'Since her breasts were bare I laid white roses on her bosom but I noticed that like all flowers they smelled bad. So I asked her if she'd prefer to watch me draw a goat on the wall. She smiled and I smiled.I went over to the wall to draw her a goat. But it was a green horse that took shape beneath my fingers. And she smiled. And I didn't smile, but later on I smiled.Then I drew a blue fish, then a red cockerel. And I asked her if I might place one hand on her neck when I spoke to her and the other on her hair. She said, 'Yes.'She said, 'Yes,' or she smiled or she kept silent. And as for me, I spoke to her with one hand on her hair and the other on her neck.

XXXII

When Lis arrived I closed the window and I didn't climb onto the wardrobe.Lis came to see me from time to time and brought me insects with their bodies pierced with a pin: wasps and scarabs and ants, and I fixed them to the head of my bed.Lis came alone. I asked her why she didn't stay in my room all the time. And she didn't reply. I told her that I could show her many things Altagora had taught me or else I could draw on the wall. She didn't reply, but she smiled“.

„By ancient custom, for the next seven days, there was but a single task with which Omoro would seriously occupy himself: the selection of a name for his firstborn son. It would have to be a name rich with history and with promise, for the people of his tribe-the Mandinkas-believed that a child would develop seven of the characteristics of whomever or whatever he was named for.

On behalf of himself and Binta, during this week of thinking, Omoro visited every household in Juffure, and invited each family to the naming ceremony of the newborn child, traditionally on the eighth day of his life. On that day, like his father and his father's father, this new son would become a member of the tribe.

When the eighth day arrived, the villagers gathered in the early morning before the hut of Omoro and Binta. On their heads, the women of both families brought calabash containers of ceremonial sour milk and sweet munko cakes of pounded rice and honey. Karamo Silla, the jaliba of the village, was there with his tan-tang drums; and the alimamo, and the arafang, Brima Cesay, who would some day be the child's teacher; and also Omoro's two brothers, Janneh and Saloum, who had journeyed from far away to attend the ceremony when the drumtalk news of their nephew's birth had reached them.

As Binta proudly held her new infant, a small patch of his first hair was shaved off, as was always done on this day, and all of the women exclaimed at how well formed the baby was. Then they quieted as the jaliba began to beat his drums. The alimamo said a prayer over the calabashes of sour milk and munko cakes, and as he prayed, each guest touched a calabash brim with his or her right hand, as a gesture of respect for the food. Then the alimamo turned to pray over the infant, entreating Allah to grant him long life, success in bringing credit and pride and many children to his family, to his village, to his tribe-and, finally, the strength and the spirit to deserve and to bring honor to the name he was about to receive.“

„On the August morning when Matt Fowler buried his youngest son, Frank, who had lived for twenty-one years, eight months, and four days, Matt's older son, Steve, turned to him as the family left the grave and walked between their friends, and said: 'I should kill him.' He was twenty-eight, his brown hair starting to thin in front where he used to have a cowlick. He bit his lower lip, wiped his eyes, then said it again. Ruth's arm, linked with Matt's, tightened; he looked at her. Beneath her eyes there was swelling from the three days she had suffered. At the limousine Matt stopped and looked back at the grave, the casket, and the Congregationalist minister who he thought had probably had a difficult job with the eulogy though he hadn't seemed to, and the old funeral director who was saying something to the six young pallbearers. The grave was on a hill and overlooked the Merrimack, which he could not see from where he stood; he looked at the opposite bank, at the apple orchard with its symmetrically planted flees going up a hill.

Next day Steve drove with his wife back to Baltimore where he managed the branch office of a bank, and Cathleen, the middle child, drove with her husband back to Syracuse. They had left the grandchildren with friends. A month after the funeral Matt played poker at Willis Trottier's because Ruth, who knew this was the second time he had been invited, told him to go, he couldn't sit home with her for the rest of her life, she was all right. After the game Willis went outside to tell everyone goodnight and, when the others had driven away, he walked with Matt to his car. Willis was a short, silver-haired man who had opened a diner after World War II, his trade then mostly very early breakfast, which he cooked, and then lunch for the men who worked at the leather and shoe factories. He now owned a large restaurant.“

„They came to Great Giddings at about ten past five. Although it was called Great is was really very small. There was a little tea-place that said 'Home-made cakes and jams', so they went in there for tea.The woman who kept it was a plump, cheerful soul, fond of children. She guessed she would make very little out of the tea she served to five healthy children - but that didn't matter! She set to work to cut three big plates of well-buttered slices of bread, put out apricot jam, raspberry, and strawberry, and a selection of home-made buns that made the children's mouths water.She knew Richard quite well, because he had sometimes been to her cottage with his aunt.'I suppose you'll be going to stay with her tonight?' she said to Richard, and he nodded, his mouth full of ginger cake. It was a lovely tea. Anne felt as if she wouldn't be able to eat any supper at all that night! Even Timmy seemed to have satisfied his enormous appetite.'I think we ought to pay double price for our gorgeous tea,' said Julian, but the woman wouldn't hear of it. No, no - it was lovely to see them all enjoying her cakes; she didn't want double price!'Some people are so awfully nice and generous,' said Anne, as they mounted their bicycles to ride off again. 'You just can't help liking them. I hope I can cook like that when I grow up.''If you do, Julian and I will always live with you and not dream of getting married!' said Dick, promptly they all laughed.“